LUCAN’S MUTILATED VOICE: THE POETICS OF INCOMPLETENESS IN ROMAN EPIC ISAIA M. CROSSON Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Classics under the Executive Committee of the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY 2020 © 2020 Isaia Crosson All Rights Reserved Abstract LUCAN’S MUTILATED VOICE: THE POETICS OF INCOMPLETENESS IN ROMAN EPIC ISAIA M. CROSSON In this doctoral dissertation I seek to reassess the innovativeness of the young Corduban poet Lucan’s masterpiece, the Civil War. Faced with the abrupt closure of Lucan’s poem 546 lines into Book 10, I adopt the view propounded by Haffter, Masters and Tracy, that what most have taken as incompletion brought on by the poet’s premature death in 65 CE is in fact a deliberate artistic decision. I then argue back from this view and reread several key features of the poem as manifestations of the same deliberate bodily incompleteness, the same sudden mutilation of a voice that the ending of the poem as we have it presents. My dissertation consists of two macro-sections, one on the structural and thematic characteristics of Lucan’s Civil War, and one on the characterization of the two antagonists most actively involved in the conflict: Julius Caesar, himself the author of an incomplete prose account of the very civil war that Lucan chooses to focus on; and Pompey the Great, a broken man whose mangled body reproduces at the microcosmic level the lack of finish exhibited by the textual body of the poem itself. Table of Contents i Acknowledgments ii Dedication iv Introduction 1 The silence of the poet 1.1 The meaning of incompleteness 13 1.2 Inmensum opus 17 1.3 Doomsday 29 1.4 The suffering poet 41 1.5 Silencing prophets 48 Shape of chaos 2.1 The rhetoric of the enemy 64 2.2 Where it begins 78 2.3 Lucan v. Caesar 95 2.4 Final notes from Marseilles 110 Birth and death of a god 3.1 Where it ends 116 3.2 Julius Caesar 117 3.3 Divus Julius 130 3.4 The poet’s nemesis 153 The human stain 4.1 Dream of a shadow 161 4.2 Nomina nuda tenemus 169 4.3 Pompey in pieces 175 4.4 The headless trunk 194 Epilogue 209 Bibliography 211 i Acknowledgments I wish to thank Professors Gareth D. Williams, Katharina Volk and Stephanie A. Frampton for believing in my project and giving me invaluable advice as it gradually took shape over the past two years. On many occasions I felt discouraged, either because I did not know how to continue, or because I thought that my ideas were irrelevant. Thanks to the enlightened guidance of my advisors I found new inspiration to bring to an end a dissertation that – quite ironically – focuses on incompleteness in an ancient work of literature. Gareth, Katharina and Stephanie: it was a privilege to be your student and learn from your acumen and insatiable intellectual curiosity how to approach so complex an artwork as Lucan’s Civil War. I also wish to thank Professor Kristina Milnor, who has made me a more refined reader of the Latin language thanks to her insights and captivating lectures; and Professor Matthew Leigh, whose masterful book on Lucan made me fall in love with this poet’s mysterious work. My deepest gratitude also goes to my extraordinary family: without my great-uncle Cam I would not have grown to appreciate the intrinsic beauty of humanistic knowledge and classical studies. Without my grandparents, Luisa and Sergio, I would not be the man I am today: even when you were far, you were always close, and you helped me to understand what truly matters in life. My aunt Sonia taught me patience, compassion, and to believe in myself. And you, my beloved mom, have been my most loyal, most enthusiastic and most loving ally in this tortuous journey: without your selfless love and your soothing words I could not have succeeded, and I cannot express how honored I am to be your son. As for you, my dear friends, what can I say? You were and are my vital force: thank you, Emma, for reacting to my endless complaints about the difficulty of the enterprise (or about the difficulties of life in general), with unwavering optimism: you’ve been my Virgil in the midst of ii the thickest woods. Thank you, Francesco, for being my champion and (soon) my best man: thanks to your skills, as when you dealt with that sheriff in South Carolina, I survived quite a few misfortunate accidents, and I learned not to give up. And you, Giovanni, have always listened to me with unmatched kindness, offering precious advice whenever I needed it. And you, Angelika and Edoardo, who are to me like a sister and a brother, remind me everyday that I am the luckiest man to have met you both. To conclude, I wish to thank my muse, the love of my life, and the incredible woman I am going to marry in just a few months: Anne, it is a privilege to stand by your side as we walk through life, and it was a privilege to conclude my doctorate in your company. In Lucan’s poem, Pompey is like the captain of a ship that’s about to sink. If I had not met you, I would be like Pompey: you are my mast through the storms of life. iii Per mia madre, i miei nonni, Cam ed Anne ἀνερρίφθω κύβος iv Introduction Lucano era forse maggior genio di Virgilio, nè perciò resta che sia stato maggior poeta, e riuscito meglio nella sua impresa; anzi che verruno lo stimi nemmeno paragonabile a Virgilio. Giacomo Leopardi Theophrastus states that “it is appropriate to leave something to your listeners’ understanding, and let them deduce it by themselves.” 1 Innes points out that one of Theophrastus’ most likely sources for this principle is his predecessor Aristotle.2 It is therefore quite an ancient belief that the interactions between speakers and listeners should be rich and multifaceted, and that listeners should have as active a role as possible in their understanding of a given speech. As a result, in shaping a λόγος one will be most effective when one refrains from saying everything one means to say, and when one also lets listeners draw conclusions on their own. Theophrastus’ basic formula posits that the adoption of a pose of deliberate incompleteness in the composition of a speech is useful, not detrimental, for the purposes of persuasion. The above reflection may be extended to writers in general, for written works of a disparate nature were often publicly recited in ancient Greece, and speakers were often speechwriters to begin with. In extolling the ideal symbiotic relationship between λογογράφοι and their audience Demetrius of Phalerum builds on Theophrastus’ view. In a relation of mutual engagement the listener, says Demetrius, upon understanding what has been omitted (συνεὶς τὸ ἐλλειφθέν) by the speaker, will be more favorably inclined to the speaker’s message (µάρτυς... εὐµενέστερος).3 This has to do with a rhetorical trick: through intuiting the information left out from a λόγος, listeners derive intellectual pleasure, because they are made to feel clever, as if 1 Fr. 696 Fortenbaugh: δεῖ...ἔνια καταλιπεῖν καὶ τῶι ἀκροατήι συνιέναι καὶ λογίζεσθαι ἐξ αὑτοῦ. Unless otherwise noted translations are my own. 2 Innes 1985: 252-4. See Ar. Rhet. 1408a and 1417b. 3 Dem. Eloc. 222. 1 they were able to fill gaps and gain important insights. But this sense of discovery is an illusion, because skilled rhetoricians can and will manipulate their discourse in a way that makes it clear what information has been left out and why, and what conclusions ought to be drawn as a result. A similar trend can be observed at Rome: reflecting on obscurity (obscuritas) in forging a sentence, Quintilian draws attention to the tendency among prose writers and even poets to cut out words and omit or distort information in their zeal for brevity, and in an effort to enhance pleasure in hearing and reading. This is achievable through various techniques, from ἀδιανóητα (expressions with a clear verbal sense but a hidden meaning), to omissions with disregard for the intelligibility of the speech (“as if it were enough,” goes on Quintilian, “that the speakers should know what they mean to say”).4 Although Quintilian, in contrast to Grillo’s claim,5 finds fault with all expressions in which the recipient of the λόγος must make an effort to understand what is being expressed (sermonem…quem auditor suo ingenio intellegit),6 other people delight in obscurity and incompleteness (Quint. Inst. 8.2.21): Ingeniosa haec et fortia et ex ancipiti diserta creduntur, pervasitque iam multos ista persuasio, ut id demum eleganter atque exquisite dictum putent quod interpretandum sit. These things are thought to be ingenious, powerful, and audaciously eloquent, and the conviction has now become widespread that nothing is elegant or refined unless it requires an interpretation. So much for Thucydides’ belief that most people are prone to internalize the data they receive without testing it properly (ἀβασανίστως).7 According to the Athenian historian, due to laziness and a deplorable tendency to accept hearsay reports without second thoughts or further inquiries, 4 Quint. Inst. 8.2.19: Alii brevitatem aemulati necessaria quoque orationi subtrahunt verba, et, velut satis sit scire ipsos quid dicere velint, quantum ad alios pertineat nihili putant […]. 5 In an eloquent 2012 study of Caesar’s rhetoric which I especially reference in Ch.